


Mission Detour

by fotias



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Desperation, Gen, Ha Ha Ha., Omorashi, Wetting, [labored wheezing], weird dad-comfort from pliskin, what you see is what you get folks. he pisses himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 14:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fotias/pseuds/fotias
Summary: 'Legendary mercenary', my ass, I just pissed myself hiding in a locker...
Comments: 19
Kudos: 47





	Mission Detour

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna be real honest. This was written for me and me alone

"I don't understand. Strut C is in the opposite direction of the way you should be going."

"I-I just... I have something I need to take care of in there, okay?" Raiden bounced on his heels, biting his lip.

"Raiden, what are you — "

He ended the call, redfaced and grumbling under his breath.

_ The way I worded that was weird, but it's too embarrassing to just say that I really need to use the bathroom… _

Giving a short huff of frustration, Raiden pressed himself to the wall and looked over his shoulder at the bridge ahead of him.  _ I just need to get across this, and then I can focus. Just need to... _

From his vantage point, he could see two guards and what was probably a UAV. His bladder pulsed impatiently, and Raiden swore under his breath, clenching his fists to release some of the tension building up in his muscles. He could feel it now, the uncomfortable sensation of fullness made infinitely worse by how tightly the skull suit pressed against his abdomen.

_ Just...need to... _

He shook himself—dwelling on his need wouldn't make the situation any easier, and he needed to hurry, anyway. Pulling out the M9, Raiden aimed for a headshot on the closest guard, and quickly found that his aim was much more shaky than usual, and he couldn't get off a clean shot.

_ Is it really...distracting me that much...?  _ Raiden wondered, not realizing he’d already begun to subconsciously shift his weight from foot to foot in an attempt to get comfortable.

After wasting nearly a whole magazine, Raiden gave a frustrated huff, looking down at his hands.  _ ...All the more reason to hurry up and get over there, I guess… _

Sighing in defeat, he pulled out the cardboard box he’d scavenged earlier and curled up inside, deciding to sneak over the bridge the old-fashioned way.

He scurried over to the start of the bridge, checking his radar periodically, and peeked out of the slot in the box. The UAV had retreated to the lower part of the bridge for now, so that was one less thing he had to worry about, but on the other hand there was what looked like a sniper on the roof… Raiden let out a quiet sigh, and snuck as far as the closest corner of the platform before stopping for safety; his radar told him that the sniper would be looking his way right about now.

_ Just gotta stay perfectly still… _

Raiden pushed himself harder against the cardboard wall, feeling his bladder protest and his face heat up, shifting his hips uncomfortably.  _ No no no, not now, not now… _

He bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut before moving to sit on his heels to alleviate some of the pressure; when that wasn't enough to keep himself from rocking desperately, he hesitantly pressed a hand to his crotch, which proved to be enough to force himself to stop squirming.  _ It’s embarrassing, but…no one can see me, and besides, I really…really need to…  _

By now, the sniper was looking the other way, so Raiden was technically safe to move; he stayed still for another few precious seconds, though, waiting anxiously for the wave of urgency to pass. Once he felt the uncomfortable pressure retreat to a manageable level, he very gingerly removed his hand and shifted his position. He scuttled to the center of the stairs before freezing again, assuming—with considerable embarrassment—the same position he had been in, just to be safe. This time, it was an approaching guard patrolling the bridge; he held his breath, trembling slightly with adrenaline, until the danger had passed.

Once the guard had walked what he guessed was out of earshot, he exhaled quietly, preparing himself to move again. He couldn't pause like he did last time—the guard could turn at any moment. Carefully, he pried his hand from between his tightly clenched thighs, and—”Shit!”—shoved it right back.

“What was that noise…?”

_ Fuck.  _ He’d been too hasty. Pulled his hand away too soon, denied himself the ability to hold back his need, and swore out loud from the reflexive horror of feeling his bladder pulse desperately, twisting like a knife in his abdomen, threatening to spill its contents.  _ Fuck, I screwed up, I screwed up, I screwed up… _

The footsteps approached again, closer, heavier. Raiden squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a drop of sweat roll down his brow, biting down on his lip to keep himself from whimpering, trembling with adrenaline and fear and the overwhelming urge to piss, and wished he was home in bed.

“...Huh. Just a box…”

_ God, thank god. _ He couldn't sigh in relief just yet, but he let his posture relax, excepting the hand he was using to keep himself under control and his legs, still clamped together tightly. His bladder throbbed with urgency, and he could swear its fullness was almost visible with his suit clinging so tightly to his abdomen.  _ I need to get over there right now… Right now, or I’m going to... _

He was done being stealthy. The moment the guard was out of sight, he made a run for the door, his breath wildly out of control, looking a little ridiculous trying to sprint with stiff legs and clenched fists. The door slammed behind him, and the moment he recognized where he was, he allowed himself a colossal sigh of relief, trailing off into a quiet, whiny groan of desperation as his bladder helpfully reminded him how badly it needed to be emptied.

Recognizing the room was a blessing and a curse. He knew this room wasn't normally patrolled, but a guard could enter at any moment; he also knew that between him and the closest restroom, there were at least three guards that he was certain he couldn't deal with in the state he was in right now. Not with his legs twisted into each other, hunched over, breathing heavily and unsteadily, barely even able to walk, his bladder so painfully full he wanted to cry…

The codec was noticeably, blissfully silent for the time being.

Raiden wasn't normally the defeatist type, but the way things were going now, he was going to draw every guard in the building to the room with the smell of urine. His movements stiff, muttering swears as he felt his bladder threaten to leak with every step, he hobbled to a nearby locker and shut himself inside with shaking hands.

_ Just until I get a hold of myself, that's it, _ he justified to himself, free to shove both his hands between his legs to hold back the flood now that he was certain no one could see him. He took long, shallow, shaky breaths as the wave of desperation passed, his legs feeling more and more like jelly by the second, then shivered with the small relief of the urge returning to a slightly more manageable level.

"Ugh..."  _ God, I can't believe I let it get this bad... _ Knowing that every moment he spent here was another drop in his bladder, that much closer to disaster, Raiden gave a short sigh and pried one hand from between his legs to open the door.

Immediately, he felt his desperation double — no, _ triple _ _ — _ and it felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. Involuntarily, he let out a soft cry of a moan, pressing his legs together hard enough to cut off the circulation in his hand. His face burned with embarrassment and something...something else, unidentifiable when  _ I have to pee I have to pee I have to pee I have to pee _ was taking up 90% of his mental energy. The hand that would have opened the door flew to his mouth to muffle the desperate whimpers he couldn't seem to suppress anymore, and his other hand definitely felt damp, too damp to just be sweat.

_ Damn, that's gonna chafe _ , was the thought that whatever scrap of critical thinking skills he had left at this point helpfully supplied him with.

Raiden began to tap his foot incessantly on the floor, carefully sliding the hand he'd used to silence himself back from where he’d pulled it, cringing slightly at the wet feeling between his legs. The tapping, he quickly realized, was making a noticeable racket — a  _ clang clang clang clang clang  _ you'd have to be deaf to miss — so he forced himself to still his leg.

...and because the universe couldn't let him have nice things, the immediate effect was that he felt himself start leaking again, drop by drop.

"Khh — " He bit his lip, his mind racing, and grabbed himself tighter, frantic, writhing with need. What the hell was he supposed to do? What the hell  _ could _ he do?

A drop spattered onto the cold metal, then another. Raiden's chest felt tight, and he felt his blush reach his ears, the corners of his eyes burning with unshed tears.

"N-no, no..." He coughed, choked on a half-sob, so stubbornly determined not to cry even as he was on the verge of losing control of himself. His legs were buckling, and he let himself slide down the wall of the locker in defeat, his whole body shaking as spurt after spurt forced itself out, visibly dampening the fabric between his legs.

_ Fuck, I'm going to piss myself. I'm actually going to piss myself… _

Warmth flooded down his thighs in what felt like an instant, clinging damply to his skin and saturating the fabric before soaking through and pooling on the floor of the locker. "No," he hissed, still trying to hold back the whimpers fighting their way out of his throat, "no, no, no,  _ shit _ _ — _ " and he cut himself off as the tears he'd been dreading welled up in his eyes and he gave in, accepting that his bladder had given out completely.

Raiden fell all the way to the ground in surrender, hiding his face in one of his hands, partially to muffle the moans he could feel building in his throat and partially on pure embarrassed reflex. His other hand twitched uselessly on the floor of the locker, quickly becoming just as soaked in his urine as his legs as his bladder emptied itself into his suit. It was disgusting, it was humiliating, but… the feeling of all of the unbearable pressure in his bladder finally,  _ finally _ draining out of him was kind of blissful. Somehow, through biting his lip and his hand over his mouth, Raiden managed to let out a low, soft sound of relief, the tension leaving his muscles with a shudder as he wet himself uncontrollably. He barely registered the tears rolling down his cheeks, caught up in the feeling of release until, after what seemed like an eternity, he felt the last of his piss trickle down his legs.

_ 'Legendary mercenary', my ass, I just pissed myself hiding in a locker... _

Somehow, through the haze of relief and humiliation, Raiden registered a persistent dripping noise. Forcing himself to sit up straighter, he blinked in the dim light of the locker, actually taking in his surroundings for the first time since he'd shut himself inside. He let out another quiet, embarrassed whine at the gross, wet noises moving around produced and the sheer  _ size  _ of the puddle he was sitting in (and the fact that he was already starting to feel cold and itchy in uncomfortable places), but what really worried him was the source of the sound: he’d been holding so much and for so long that the contents of his bladder were dripping out of the locker and onto the floor outside.

“ _ Shit,  _ shit shit shit,” Raiden whispered very quietly, cringing at the feeling of the wet fabric of the skull suit rubbing against his skin as he arranged himself into a position that felt a little less pathetic. Had he doomed himself by hiding here? He didn't know how often guards entered this room, but he was certain that if one saw a mysterious liquid leaking from one of the lockers, all of them would be checked for intruders. But what if he was overthinking it? What if he was in danger just sitting here, trying to catch his breath, soaked in his own piss? What if—

A codec call. From 141.80.

Raiden let out a long, shaky sigh before answering it.  _ God… he's just gonna make me feel worse, isn't he... _

“...”

“...”

Both of them were silent for upwards of thirty seconds.

“...Pliskin, I-I—”

“Kid, it's alright. Just keep moving.”

The blunt reassurance startled Raiden so much that he didn't even bother with grumbling about the awkward silence. “B-but I…”

“Calm down. Happens to the best of us. As long as no one's spotted you, there's nothing to worry about.”

“I…” Raiden’s head was spinning. He looked down at the mess he’d made of himself—his soaked suit, the puddle he was still sitting in—and took another deep, slightly less shaky breath. “...Yeah. Y-yeah.”

Without another word, Pliskin ended the call, and for once, Raiden was grateful for the man’s gruffness; the less he had to dwell on what had just happened, the better. What mattered is that he had relieved himself—even if it was in his clothes—and he could focus on what he was supposed to be doing now, even if the awful, cold, wet stickiness between his legs that became impossible to ignore as he stood up made him feel as if he'd just traded one discomfort for another.

Taking one more long, deep breath, Raiden opened the locker and stepped out, cringing slightly as his foot landed in the small puddle of his urine that had accumulated outside. He could worry about cleaning himself up later—he had a mission to complete.

**Author's Note:**

> when i die man fuck it i wanna go to hell
> 
> please comment LOL


End file.
